I’m making a phone call to a credit card company.

Me: “Hello! I have a [Hotel Chain] credit card with you. I am trying to redeem some rewards points. I was told by [Hotel Chain] that, somehow, when my card was opened, a separate rewards account was opened with it. I don’t have the rewards account number associated with my credit card, and [Hotel Chain] told me I could get that information from you.”

Representative: “Yes, ma’am, I would be glad to help you with that. Your account number is the same as your credit card number.”

Me: “Oh! Really? So, I can use that to log in to my rewards account?”

Representative: “Yes, ma’am, that is your account number.”

Me: “Well, I know how to log in to my credit card account. What I’m looking for is the account number of the rewards account attached to the credit card.”

Representative: *Loudly* “YES, MA’AM, YOUR CARD NUMBER IS YOUR ACCOUNT NUMBER!”

Me: “Yes, I understand that. What I am looking for is the rewards account number associated with the—”

Representative: “OKAY, MA’AM, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, SO I WILL TRANSFER YOU TO SOMEONE IN THE CREDIT CARD DEPARTMENT SO YOU WON’T BE CONFUSED!”

Me: “Gee, thanks.”

Lo and behold, when I talked to someone in the credit card department, she could immediately give me the number. Amazingly, it was not the credit card number. Good thing she helped me NOT BE CONFUSED.

I’m a physician in a family practice office. We just had a patient, who has been coming here for many years, complain to our office manager.

Patient: “That photo you have in your front reception area is demonic and should be removed!”

The photo, which my partner took on vacation? A gargoyle; they were used in ancient times to ward away evil. Where was it taken? Notre Dame Cathedral. How long has it been hanging in sight of everyone checking in? For over eight years.

I schedule referrals to my employer’s internal case management program. I am required to attempt multiple forms of contact before closing a referral for an inability to reach someone: two phone calls with a message, an electronic letter, and one or two physical letters to the person’s address. Also, if a person doesn’t show up to their scheduled appointment or cancels without rescheduling, I send them a letter asking if they still want to meet with a case manager.

I have some medical issues, one of which often causes me to sometimes say strings of numbers wildly incorrectly if I am not reading them simultaneously. Thus, I have my own phone number and extension in big, clear letters on a bright red sticky note on my phone, and I intentionally read it off when leaving it as a message to a patient.

I hear the following sorts of things dozens of times a month. 

Patient #1: “The phone number you sent in the letter was wrong; it called a restaurant! I couldn’t get ahold of you until I found your voicemail. You need to talk to whoever sends the letters!”

Me: “It’s the same number, [Patient #1]. I’m the one who sends the letters.”

Or…

Patient #2: “You gave me the wrong number in the voicemail. It called some lady in [Town] and she yelled at me.”

Me: “Oh, no! What was the number I gave you in the voicemail?”

Patient #2: “It was [my correct phone number].”

Me: “That is my phone number, [Patient #2].”

Or…

Patient #3: “I couldn’t reach you at first! I called and it never answered.”

Me: “What number did you call, [Patient #3]?”

Patient #3: “[Wildly different number]. It’s what was in the online message someone sent me.”

Me: *Checks the message* “Hmm, that’s not the number I sent you in the message.”

Or my favorite…

I call [Patient #4].

Patient #4: “Finally! I’ve been calling and calling you and no one has called me back.”

I check and see that I’ve called and sent [Patient #4] several communications.

Me: “I have been trying to reach you but haven’t received any phone calls from you. What number have you been calling, my dear?”

Patient #4: “[Wildly incorrect phone number].”

Me: “Goodness, that’s not my number at all. Where did you get it from?”

Patient #4: “One of the ladies in the waiting room said it was the best number.”

Me: “Did you call it instead of the number I left for you?”

Patient #4: “Yeah! She said it was the best!”

I Googled it later. It was for a crematorium.

I work in a small-town hospital. From 8:00 pm to 6:00 am, all incoming patients and visitors, emergency or not, have to go through the ER front desk where I work. The ER entrance is the only entrance for those hours and the main hospital is locked for safety. The doors to the main hospital are out of our direct sight down a hallway, and we use a remote camera and buzzer system to let people through the door once they’ve checked in.

There is a sign placed in the hallway on the way to the main hospital stating to stop and check in with the ER desk. Signs are placed at the main admission desk as well as in the center of that room stating the hours they are open and what hours people should register at the ER desk. Signs are on the main doors stating the hours they are locked and what visitors should do after hours (return to the ER desk). As well, all early patients are expressly told when they make their appointments to check in at the ER desk when they come in before a certain time.

This scenario happens daily.

A patient will come in for an early morning procedure. They will blatantly ignore me as I start to greet them. They will walk past the signs at the entrance. They will go all the way down the hall, ignore the signs at that entrance, and go to the main doors. They will yank and pull on the doors, attempting to force them open. They will stand there for several minutes staring at the door — but clearly not reading the signs — and then try to force the doors again. This might repeat several times. Finally, they will return to my desk.

Me: “Hello, how may I help you?”

Patient: “I’m here for [test] and everything is locked. I’m supposed to be here at [time].”

Me: “Yes. You must check in here first.”

Patient: “Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

I die a little more inside each time.

I work as a supervisor in a home decor store. About a year ago, another store opened up two blocks down the street from us. They were a different company but had a similar name, like “In Your House” versus “Stuff For Your House.”

One afternoon, I was doing five things at once (quite normal) and I answered the phone.

Me: “Thank you for calling ‘In Your House’ in [Town]. How can I help you?”

Man: “Hi. I was just in there a little while ago and bought a sofa, and I’m here to pick it up.”

On the surface, this is not odd. We sell sofas. I wasn’t aware that we had sold any today, but occasionally things do happen without my knowledge, so I don’t think much of it.

Me: “Okay, sir, let me radio for someone in the back to bring it out to you. Are you out front?”

Man: “No, I’m at the rear of your building. I was told to pick it up here.”

Me: *Pauses* “One moment, please.”

I mute the call in confusion. While we do sell sofas and we do allow people to pick up their paid-for merchandise later in the day or week, all pick-ups are done at the front door. It’s a bit tricky to get to our back, and the doors are heavy garage-type doors, so we never tell people to go back there; hence my confusion. I get on the radio to talk to my boss.

Me: “I have a gentleman on the phone who says he’s at the back door to pick up the sofa he bought.”

Boss: *Pauses* “At the back door?”

Me: “That’s what he says. He said he bought the sofa earlier today and he was told to pick it up at the back door.”

Boss: “We haven’t sold any sofas today, and we definitely haven’t told anyone to go to the back door!”

Me: “I thought it seemed strange. Let me talk to him.”

I unmute the call.

Me: “Sir, we haven’t sold any sofas today, and we never tell anyone to do a pick-up at the back door. Are you quite certain you’ve called the right location? We do have other stores; maybe you meant to dial one of those?”

Man: “What kind of bulls*** are you trying to pull? I bought a sofa from you and the guy told me to come around back!”

Me: “Sir, we have no men working in our store today. I don’t know who told you to go around back, but it wasn’t anyone who works here.”

Man: “The h*** are you talking about!? You’re on [Street], right?”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Man: “Isn’t this ‘Stuff For Your House’?!”

Me: “Aha. No, sir, they’re down the street. You’ve called the ‘In Your House’ store.”

I hear somebody in the background on his end, laughing hysterically.

Person: “You idiot! You called the wrong store!”

And of course, he then hung up the phone with no apology for how he’d spoken to me. We laughed about him for the rest of the day.